


Just Cheer Up

by sarasland30



Series: Happy Sibling Funtime [3]
Category: Animaniacs
Genre: Expanding on canon, Exploring Canon, Gen, Wakko's Wish, they are very cold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 07:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarasland30/pseuds/sarasland30
Summary: A small ficlit from the POV of Wakko shortly before the opening of Wakko's Wish





	Just Cheer Up

It wasn't fair for two reasons.

Wakko was certain of that. It was difficult to think straight with anything, partly because the soggy wood they were laying on was not helping with the fact that warmth was bleeding from their chests everytime they breathed out, and also because the cold was licking them to the bone, and they hadn't eaten since last Tuesday, and the lamentable quilt Yakko had strewn and stretched across their torsos was starting to shrink the more they grew, and because talking felt slow, and because the rags they owned were starting to wilt, and he hadn't heard a single friendly word since before last year. But he was still certain.

Because while their unmollified, ever-selfish King sat cozily in his warm palace, Acme Falls had been abandoned. Snow piled up with the loss of indoor fireplaces, industrial shops. The train tracks to the village were pulled from their nails and smelted for cash. Most damningly, the orphanage had been shut down, leaving the Warner trio veritably homeless.

More selfishly, the other reason was that even despite the fact that Dot always huddled in the center, and although she always received the majority of their scraps, and although Wakko and Yakko always tried really, really hard to get her a pretty roll of new fabric from the tailors for her next impromptu scarf, it was never enough. Dot's face was starting to sink, and if Wakko didn't know any better, he would say that she looked frail.

Often times, while sitting in that familiar huddle, they were silent. Jokes used to pass freely among them, but now Yakko looked too upset to begin to think of any, and Wakko himself kept repeating the same ones, and eventually became useless to it, too. More importantly, speaking was reserved for Dot. She was hoarse enough in the winter, and not hearing something simple like a request for water could cost them a lifetime of regret. She was in flimsy condition; the rule had been unspoken, but it was all de facto.

Wakko turned to look at his sister [his neck had a nasty crick in it from looking ahead for so long, and he had to suppress a shudder, but he did it, and he blinked a few times]. He didn't know what he and Yakko would do without her. Cry, maybe? Probably. Dot was their little sister. Their cute little sister, and the last thing their parents had left behind. The doctors said she needed a surgery, something that, unfortunately wasn't an option unless they could shell out a ha'penny. [A ha'penny! That was more than a year's work. And they were just kids.]

Dot said she would simply wait to get the surgery. It was valiant, certainly more altruistic than expected of her. But still stupid. And completely unreasonable.

Wakko wasn't sure when they had started worrying about reason. He never considered himself all that serious, but the more he thought about it, the villagers were all starting to get a little hopeless.

Sometimes, whenever their little sister stopped shivering, or coughing, or whatever it was they were trying to silence, before that initial mental scream of victory, Wakko would get scared. His heart would skip a beat. The world would freeze, all teetering on a single confirmation of yes or no. She could be gone, he sometimes thought. And then it would really be over. Yakko was usually there to turn back with a reassuring, ever-knowing look, though, so Wakko could let his shoulders unhitch. He was thankful, those days, that his big brother was inherently empathetic.

Wakko was probably staring intently, because by then, Dot had matched his stare with a steady gaze. Wakko's ears twitched. He wasn't sure what he had wanted to say.

"Gotta cheer up," he said instead, mostly to himself. The toon paused to take a slow breath. "Not give up hope."

From the corner of his eyes, Wakko saw Yakko shuffle closer. Dot looked pensive. They sat in contemplative quietude. Their sister sniffed daintily from under their bundles. "I miss the orphanage."

Wakko's entire frame sagged. He knew what that was like. They all did.

Which was why tomorrow, he resolved— tomorrow, he would catch the morning train and work. He was going to get that ha'penny. He hadn't told Yakko yet — wasn't sure if his big brother would approve or not — but he would, no matter what the answer was.

"We got eachother," said Yakko. Wakko could tell he wasn't sure, because whenever his brother pursed his mouth like that, it always meant he was trying hard not to say something. "We'll get through it."

It was a nice wish for Wakko to hold on to.


End file.
